𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | Finnick Odair

𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐯. there'll be happiness after you

The sun was setting over the arena as the tributes prepared for the final battle. Caesar Flickerman adjusted his bespoke suit and listened as an assistant briefed him on what was going to happen next.

The 70th Hunger Games had been brutal, with many of the strongest tributes succumbing to the unexpected flood. But now, only five remained: a young girl from District five, a fierce boy from District ten, an unpredictable male fighter from seven and the pair from District four.

The girl, Genevieve, was a personal favourite of the capital crowds, due to her good looks, charisma and entertaining kills. Her district partner had also been well-liked but after the stunt he'd pulled, overreacting after killing another tribute, the enthusiasm for him had waned. He didn't seem like he was in any shape to win these games either, having been late to the cornucopia ascending, Caspian had to fight off two tributes for his supplies. Although he'd come out victorious he was badly injured and the consensus was that another well-aimed blow would strike him dead.

The real competition now would be between the district ten boy and district four girl.

The boy, Harold, had been an exemplary tribute, boasting great survival skills. He was a formidable opponent, with a bulky figure that would give him an advantage in any hand-to-hand combat. He was also the last tribute from District 10 remaining in the arena, and he seemed determined to be the victor of this year's Hunger Games.

Caesar was pulled from his musings by the director's voice signalling the show was about to begin. Today's guest was Polonius Gallowstone himself. They would hopefully be covering the last day together as the arena slowly narrowed to encourage a final fight. It was an ingenious piece of engineering, the mountains had been slowly changing over the past few days, pushing the tributes closer to the centre of the arena and nearer to each other.

There was sure to be some foul play on the capital's part to ensure they got an interesting winner, after last year's disastrous champion they desperately needed one.

The district five girl was surely not going to make it. She was mousy and plain looking and had shown no real showmanship so far, surviving only on pure luck. She'd make for a boring victor in comparison to the others and Polonius had promised a show to be remembered.

Caesar started with a short summarization of what had happened so far and then launched into his analysis of the live camera footage being broadcast to them.

As he'd correctly predicted the district five girl was the first to go, she had been attempting to collect more water from the lake surrounding the cornucopia when a hand had shot out and dragged her down.

It was a capital-designed mutation, of course, a siren to be precise. She'd screamed like hell as she was dragged to her watery grave. Polonius had found the whole thing hilarious and laughed at every measly attempt she made to escape. The large counter behind them clicked as it displayed the number four in a big, bright font.

"20 down, Four to go," Caesar announced as he drummed his fingers lightly on the table. The screen behind them warped into a map highlighting each tribute's exact location and the two men studied it carefully.

"If we're lucky, Attilius from seven will continue on that path and bump into a heavily injured Caspian who is resting nearby," Polonius remarked tracing the movement with his hands.

Sure enough, he was correct, Caesar watched attentively as the two tributes made eye contact. Caspian sprung to his feet with an inaudible groan as Attilius advanced. He was taking his chance with the more experienced fighter only because he could see the blood dripping from a deep wound in his stomach.

They circled each other for a while, no one daring to make the first move. Attilius and Caspian both had similar swords at their disposal and it seemed like the fight would be evenly matched.

The two tributes stared each other down as Caesar began a mental countdown.

Caspian was the first to move, charging at Attilius with surprising speed considering his injuries. But Attilius was quick, dodging Caspian's attack and slicing his arm with his sword.

The district four tribute let out a cry of pain but didn't give up. The two battled fiercely, both determined to come out on top.

Attilius was a strong fighter, but Caspian had the advantage of experience. He knew all the tricks and motions, and he was able to use them to his advantage. But Attilius was not one to be underestimated. He fought with fierce determination, never slowing down.

The fight was brutal and intense. Both tributes were covered in cuts and bruises, and both were exhausted. But neither would give in. They knew that one of them had to die, and they were both determined to be the ones who came out on top.

As the sun set, the two tributes were locked in a final struggle. Attilius had the upper hand, his sword at Caspian's throat. He could see the fear in his eyes, and he knew that this was his moment.

But before he could deliver the final blow, a weary Caspian thrust his sword into Attilius' side.

Attilius was thrown to the ground by the attack, and he lay there for a brief moment, dazed and injured. After catching his breath he noticed that Caspian now lacked a weapon and there was no way to get it back considering the fact that it was buried in his side.

He struggled to his feet and looked around for Caspian. The boy in question was spitting blood and holding his side. Attilius staggered over and sliced messily against his opponent's chest. Caspian gurgled as crimson coloured blood spilt out of his gaping mouth and collapsed motionlessly.

A cannon fired.

Attilius gazed down at his handiwork before tugging the sword out of his abdomen, realising his mistake almost immediately his eyes widened. This was the end for him. He tumbled forward onto the dead boy's chest and a second canon soon sounded.